


Charm School

by nightdrive



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: AU, Eventual Romance, F/M, Good Malfoy Family, HP: EWE, Healers, Humor, Malfoy Manor, POV Draco Malfoy, POV Ginny Weasley, Post Hogwarts AU, Post-Hogwarts, Professors, Pureblood Culture, Pureblood Society, Redeemed Draco, Romance, Snarky Draco Malfoy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-16
Updated: 2015-06-05
Packaged: 2018-03-18 03:00:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 18,291
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3553553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nightdrive/pseuds/nightdrive
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ginny Weasley finds herself trying to navigate the strange and confusing traditions of pureblood society in Narcissa Malfoy’s Charm School, where she encounters catty girls, a meticulous teacher, and worst of all, Draco Malfoy. Will she come out on top or be defeated?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Decisions

**Author's Note:**

> DISCLAIMER: Harry Potter and all original characters, places, ideas belong to J.K. Rowling, Warner Bros., Bloomsbury, Scholastic, and whoever else owns them. Any references to TV/films/movies will be references at the end of the chapter. Anything else that looks familiar is likely not mine. This will be a sweeping disclaimer for all chapters. Please don’t sue, I don’t own anything… because if I did, I wouldn’t be here!

**one. decisions.**

It was an ugly day like no other, the dark gray clouds clashing against each other. The rain was pouring down in heavy sheets as thunder lit the sky. The countryside looked dull and dark as Ginny Weasley looked at it through sullen eyes from inside the carriage window.

Or so it was in the mind of the resigned redhead. It was actually a surprisingly sunny morning, a scant few clouds floating by lazily in the tranquil blue sky. The rolling hills that moved alongside the ride were green and expansive, just waiting to be run through. Ginny couldn't even enjoy the lovely Wiltshire countryside as the horse-drawn carriage trudged along the paved dirt path. She sank back and closed her eyes, suddenly feeling very tired as she reflected upon the situation that got her here.

*****

"Ginny, will you be a dear and answer the door?" Her mother's voice called up from the kitchen.

"Sure, Mum!" Ginny called back, making her way towards the staircase. Her fiery ponytail bounced around as she rushed down the stairs.

Throwing the door open, the youngest Weasley was presented with an elderly man in Ministry black robes, top hat covering his balding head.

"Hello. How can I help you? My father is actually at work, sir," she greeted, deducing that this man had come to see father.

"Good afternoon, ma'am. I'm actually here to see a…" the old man put on his spectacles and peered down at the parchment he procured from his robe pocket. "Ginevra Molly Weasley? Is she home?"

"I'm Ginevra," Ginny replied uncertainly.

"Fantastic! My name is Zacharias Patton. I am a solicitor from the Department of Magical Law Enforcement," the old man's eyes twinkled. He took his top hat off, revealing a balding crown. Looking expectantly at the young woman, he asked, "Is it alright if I come in? I have an important matter to discuss with you."

"Listen, sir, if something happened at St. Mungo's, I'm still technically in the training progr…" Ginny began, panicking as each ridiculous scenario ran across her brain.

"Oh, nothing like that, ma'am!" He waved her off with a chuckle as she led him to an armchair adjacent to the sofa.

"Who was at the door, Ginny?" Molly Weasley came into the living room, wiping her hands on her apron.

"This is Mr. Patton, a solicitor from the Ministry," Ginny introduced. "And this is my mother, sir, Molly Weasley."

Shaking hands with Molly, Zacharias jumped in, "Pleased to make your acquaintance, Mrs. Weasley."

Pulling out an envelope from the breast pocket of his robe, he began, "As I was just beginning to explain to your daughter, I am here to bestow upon her the Last Will and Testament of Cedrella Weasley."

"Mr. Patton, I think you must be mistaken. My grandmother passed away a little over twenty years ago," Ginny stated, perplexed, shooting her mother an uncertain glance.

"Yes, yes, I know that. However, a specific stipulation in her will stated that this clause be presented prior to her granddaughter's twenty first birthday, should she have one."

A look of realization flashed across Molly's face. "Unbelievable. She must not have updated her will before she died."

"Mum? You know about this?" Ginny was so confused.  _What in the world was happening?_

"It'll all make sense once Mr. Patton explains," she reached over and patted her daughter's hand.

Zacharias cleared his throat and began, "'To my granddaughter, Ginevra Molly Weasley, I bequeath 750 Galleons from my personal trust at Gringotts Bank, so long as the guidelines stipulated below are met.'"

Ginny stared at the man as if he had sprouted another head.

"SEVEN HUNDRED AND FIFTY GALLEONS?  _SEVEN HUNDRED AND FIFTY GALLEONS?"_  Ginny squeaked.

Who knew ol' grandmother Weasley had that much gold laying around? She couldn't even conceive what that amount looked like in her head. Her mind was blown at the notion of a large pile of gold sitting around, shining brightly, just waiting to be spent. She had never seen more than a few Galleons at a time, let alone hundreds.

"…To me? Why me?"

"Ginny, listen on," Molly chided. "You aren't just being handed this sum."

"WHO CARES? It's 750 Galleons! Imagine what I could do with that money! I could move out of Shell Cottage! I could go and visit Charlie in Romania or go to Italy or Brazil! I could send you and Dad on an amazing trip! I could…" Before she could continue, Molly shushed her daughter.

"…Right," Zacharias continued. "In order to get receive this sum, you must complete several conditions the late Mrs. Weasley has so stated. 'In order to receive this quantity, Ginevra Molly Weasley must:

1\. Agree to participate in the debutante ball that is organized every two years by Mulieres Viginti Octo.

2\. Complete Charm School before the ball that is also hosted by said organization in Item One

3\. Complete the entire process of the debutante by having a party in recognition of her twenty first birthday.

All of these contingencies must be met within a week of Ginevra Molly Weasley's twenty first birthday.'"  


*****

Ginny's laughter could still be heard that evening as she sat around the kitchen table for supper with her parents.

"Now, now, Gin, that's enough," Molly tried to calm her daughter. "The task at hand is really not that bad."

"Excuse me?" Ginny sputtered. She whirled around to her mother. "I AM not about to be paraded around in front of sleazy, rich men and their equally abhorrent old-fashioned families! It's the twenty-first bloody century! That woman is – was – batty!"

"Ginny Weasley! You will not speak ill of the deceased under my roof!" Her mother chastised. After hearing a mutter of apology, Molly continued. "Your grandmother was beyond thrilled after she heard that she was finally having a granddaughter! She wanted to pass down her family traditions to her own daughter had she had one and wanted to be able to do so with you."

"So she decided that bribing me was the way to go?" Ginny huffed after a forkful of potatoes.

"Well, she was still a Black in the end," Arthur cut in quietly. "Even though my mother married a Weasley, she still cherished many of her family traditions. Almost all of the descendants of the Twenty Eight have participated in the debutante process and coming out to society."

The youngest Weasley only huffed again in response, the fire in her belly extinguishing from the guilt that was settling in.

"It's not like you two did that," She pointed out, unable to keep her mouth shut. "You eloped right out of Hogwarts."

"Gin, we were in a war during that time. There were no time for such frivolities," Molly responded.

"And  _I_  have time for such frivolity? I just finished my Healer's training program a week ago, and I will be starting a full-time position in the fall."

Molly sighed. There was no getting through to a stubborn Ginny. "No one is forcing your hand in participating in all of this. Your grandmother Weasley simply wanted to be able to present her daughter to the society that she was very much still a part of even if her own family disowned her. She was still a proud woman despite the circumstances. We agree that this pureblooded elite nonsense is loony but that's what she would have wanted. It's not as if she's forcing you to marry any of these blokes."

"I don't care how much this meant to the woman. I will not be paraded around like a piece of property that's waiting to be bought by some of the most arrogant, backwards people in all of Britain!" Ginny adamantly said, as she roughly began to clear the table before stomping on each step up the stairs.  


*****

Ginny sighed as she sank onto the small twin bed in her childhood bedroom. The parchments the solicitor gave her presented a very strange proposition. The promise to become completely independent from her parents and move out on her own. Like all of the Weasleys, Ginny had left the nest after the War. Er, sort of. Her oldest brother Bill had offered a place to stay at his home, Shell Cottage. It was not the most ideal of places, being along the coast, but it offered Ginny a sense of independence without the cost. However, Bill and his wife, Fleur, just found out that they were expecting, and Ginny decided that it was finally time to move out on her own. There was no way she was going to come crawling back to her parents' house. Ginny was too proud to admit defeat.

Her brown eyes scanned the small airy pink room. She glanced at the friendly orchard outside of her cozy nook, where she had spent many hours reading, writing, and dreaming. Poster figures of the Weird Sisters and Gwenog Jones waved and winked at her. Her neat but stuffed bookcase looked dusty, having been cast aside in favor of work and adult life.

 _Ugh, work,_ the redhead groaned. Ginny didn't want to think about it. Her first official day as a full-fledged Healer was in a couple of months and she was not ready. Sure, she had been able to skip basic healing classes thanks to her field experience with the Order after the war, but she was still nervous. She loved that she was able to help people; mend them literally and figuratively, especially in the aftermath of the war. She had decided to take on the difficult career of a Healer in order to show everyone that Ginny Weasley could take care of herself. No one was ever going to cast her aside for fear of her safety again.

"Seven hundred and fifty Galleons." She let the number roll off of her tongue slowly as she laid back on the bed. She would be able to pay for a lovely little flat for months in London, granting her easy access to St. Mungo's. But did she really want to sell her dignity, morals, and pride for money?

 _What have you got to lose?_ A little voice whispered in her head.

"How about everything I believe in?" Ginny snorted.

She could not stand prissy, elite organizations like the Mulieres Viginti Octo, better known as the MVO. Made up of female descendants of families deemed as the "Sacred Twenty Eight", all of the women were from old Wizarding families of pureblood status. Along with that status usually came wealth, greed, and shaky values. While they were an organization that prided itself on its pureblood status, they also spent much of their time organizing charitable events for the good of the Wizarding kind. In Ginny's eyes, it was a bunch of old biddies that had too much time on their hands who enjoyed superficialities like this.

"As if any of them knew  _real_  work," She huffed, rolling over to get up. That shining heap of gold sounded better and better to Ginny. It's not like there was much to do. Spend her time attending useless sessions that taught her the ins and outs about which fork to use and how to do a proper curtsy? Easy. After learning endless medical properties of herbs and magical creatures, that was a laughable challenge. Wear a pretty dress and dance around for a night? Even easier. She was so used to wearing her Apprentice Healer robes and casual clothes that that seemed almost fun. Dance with some of Wizard's elite and admittedly, some good looking fellows? Easiest. She hated to admit it, but during her breaks at the hospital she scoured a society page or two. Some of those blokes were not hard on the eyes. And when was the last time Ginny had had a date? She could not even remember.

She looked at the parchment in the desk, the dashes blinking, waiting for her wavy signature. The idea sounded better and better to her the more she thought about it. The way she saw it, she was getting a nice vacation and reprieve before she had to go back to the real world.

Getting up before she could talk herself out of it, she took a quill from her desk and quickly scrawled her name on the dotted line. Sending off the family owl with her decision, she made her way to her parents' room.

Ginny quietly knocked on the door and heard her mother’s response. Slowly, she opened the door and cleared her throat. Her parents were in bed, Arthur setting down the newspaper in his hands, Molly putting down her glasses and the novel in hand.

Ginny fidgeted around uncomfortably in the doorway and cleared her throat. "I have decided to take Grandmother Weasley's offer," she said quietly. "However," she raised her finger and her voice. "This in no way means I am throwing my morals and values away for this money. I am merely considering this as an investment in my future… A future in which I will be helping people. So really, I'm doing everything for the ultimate good. Please let the record show for future reference."

With that, she quickly shuffled out of the door before her parents could get in a word.  


*****

And that was how Ginny Weasley found herself heading towards Malfoy Manor on a lovely day. She groaned. _What did I sign myself up for?_ Ginny couldn't help but wonder as the carriage passed through imperial iron-wrought white gates. The carriage seamlessly seeped through the entrance. Green hedges trailed along both sides of the gravel pathway. She couldn't help but marvel at the smattering of white peacocks that were strolling along the front lawn.

Malfoy Manor was an exquisite manor house that took Ginny's breath away despite whatever bad mood she was in. The Elizabethan era manor shone brightly in all its glory, the diamond-paned windows reflecting the sunshine. The front part of the estate was decorated with intricate garden sculptures and flowerbeds.

The carriage abruptly came to a halt. The door to her car opened, and she let out a weary sigh. It was too late to turn back now. Ginny slowly stepped out of the carriage, the sun blinding her eyes. Her trunk and other belongings was being levitated by House Elves that had appeared out of thin air. The expansive Manor double doors were opened wide for all those permitted. She could faintly hear the sound of water flowing from the magnificent fountain that was in their foyer.

With a deep breath and a determined glint in her eyes, Ginny Weasley made her first steps into the throes of pureblood society.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading and I do hope you continue! This story is nearly complete and will be updated on slowly but surely, with revisions. Please, please leave a review on your way out, I look forward to hearing feedback to see what you think!


	2. Introductions

Her eyes adjusted to the indoors and took in a magnificently stone carved fountain right in the center of the entrance hall. As Ginny looked up she could see a couple of stories above, her brain dizzying by the maze of staircases and windows. A house elf motioned to make a turn towards a darker corridor, only illuminated by the candles lining the wall. The walls were adorned with many portraits, presumably Malfoy ancestors, Ginny assumed, judging by their pale faces and the way they upturned their noses at the sight of her red hair. She sighed. Even Malfoy paintings had a hatred for her. Finally, she reached the bronze handled door that magically swung open.

There were around thirty young wizards and witches scattered about what was the Malfoy drawing room. It was ornate with its lavish decorations hanging on the dark purple walls. The bright light from the windows only served to highlight these embellishments. All of the furniture had been removed as it served as a room of entertaining for the Manors temporary tenants. Ginny grabbed a goblet of pumpkin juice the house elves were circulating through the crowd. She glanced around, recognizing only a couple of faces throughout the gathering. She had seen former Hogwarts students such as Fay Dunbar and Theodore Nott, but many were complete strangers to her. As much as she tried to avoid finding him, her eyes eventually fell upon the blond crown of Draco Malfoy. She groaned. Ginny decided that it would be best to avoid Malfoy like the plague. She wanted to get through this situation as smoothly as possible and in one piece. Besides, she didn't think it was the wisest idea to hex the living daylights out of her future teacher's son.

Ginny had a begrudging respect for Narcissa Malfoy, who had helped save Harry's life during the final moments of the Battle of Hogwarts with Lord Voldemort. She understood full well the lengths the woman would go to in order to save her loved ones, even if her loved one was in the form of an insufferable git known as Draco Malfoy. In fact, the Malfoy family's reputation within the community had taken a turn for the more positive after the war. Though some wizards truly doubted their allegiance, many had come to terms with the fact that the family was acting just as many others had done - to save the ones that they loved at any cost. Furthermore, the Malfoys had contributed greatly to repairing Hogwarts, assisting the Ministry in the rounding up of Death Eaters post-war, and donating their time and money to various charities. Unfortunately for them, Lucius Malfoy was killed in a revenge killing after the war, but the family continued to stride on.

Just as Ginny finished the last of the contents in her goblet, Mrs. Malfoy began to make her way to the head of the crowd, standing before the handsome, baroque marble mantelpiece. She watched the tall, slim woman seamlessly glide through the younger witches and wizards. Narcissa was a very beautiful witch, acquiring her family's good looks, with her blonde hair pulled back and her blue eyes looking stern. Rather than the haughty expression many had become accustomed to seeing on Mrs. Malfoy's face, she had a more calm expression but one that still commanded attention. She tapped her wand against the mantelpiece to capture the attention of the crowd in front of her, murmuring, " _Sonorus_."

"Welcome, all of you, to the Etiquette Conservatory of the Mulieres Viginti Octo, or more affectionately known as Charm School. Here we aim to refine and polish the manners and etiquette of future generations of our esteemed community. My name is Narcissa Malfoy, and I am this year's Head of the Conservatory. It will be my duty to equip all of you with the proper training to successfully get through the Debutante Ball, your introduction to society. You may address me as Madame Malfoy. Now, before we get into the rules and regulations of the school, I will be conducting an initial inspection of each one of you," Narcissa paused, as a murmur of uncertainty went through the crowd.  _An inspection?_ Ginny wondered, rolling her eyes. This association took itself much too seriously. 

"I will have you all separate into two groups, men and women," Narcissa indicated with her wand in two directions. Once the crowd had separated according to gender, she continued. "My assistant, Kendra Lamorak," she indicated to the woman to the left of her, armed with a clipboard and quill, "will be leading the men out of the drawing room. Please follow her directions in a kindly manner." Kendra motioned for the wizards to make their way out of the drawing room, leaving the women with Narcissa.

Narcissa walked towards the witches and quickly lined up young women into a single line, shoulder to shoulder. Ginny groaned inwardly as she was shuffled to the very end. She mentally cursed her last name for forcing her to be the last one to deal with Narcissa. One by one, Narcissa made her way to each individual, giving them a lengthy examination. Everything was scrutinized, from physical appearance to dress to posture. Narcissa's trusty sidekick Kendra eagerly wrote down everything her boss verbalized. There were many disapproving clicks of the tongue and chides heard throughout the painstaking process. She tried tune out the stress-inducing process happening further down the line as the rest of the room was in complete silence. Ginny was snapped out of her reverie when she heard Narcissa's sophisticated accent call out, "Weasley, Ginevra."

Ginny swallowed hard as Narcissa's cool blue stare gazed down at her. She braced herself for what was to come, and come it did. Nearly everything about Ginny offended the older woman. From Ginny's poor posture down to the extra piercing in her right ear was met with scrutiny. When they made notes about her clothes, she subconsciously smoothed out the non-existent creases in her dress and stood properly in her heels. She had worn the classiest black dress she had, a hand me down from Fleur. It was a couple of years old but who would know the difference? Apparently Narcissa Malfoy, who disapproved of its dated look and her matronly kitten heels.

"Her nails are satisfactory and clean but her cuticles are horrid," Narcissa shook her head at Kendra, who scribbled furiously onto her clipboard. Ginny quickly pulled back her hand from the older woman's, trying not to snatch it back so obviously.

"Miss Weasley's red hair is a rather garish shade, which is unfortunate as it is of good quality, but we can most likely dye it when the time comes," Narcissa noted.  _Over my dead body,_ Ginny thought angrily. Even if she herself got frustrated by her red hair, it was  _her_  hair! It was a Weasley trademark and she wore it with pride.

"The freckles on her face can always be fixed by glamour charms. I do hope they only stop at her face," Narcissa sighed.  _I'm bespeckled all over, woman._  "Miss Weasley's stature is not the most sought after but her petite frame may be desirable by some individuals," Narcissa paused as she looked over Ginny's face. "Her face is acceptable and has potential to be enhanced."

At this comment, Ginny lost it.

"Mrs. Malfoy," Ginny seethed as she crossed her arms across her chest. "I would appreciate not being reduced to being examined like a piece of livestock being put up for auction."

A wave of snickers echoed throughout the room. Instead of responding to her student, Narcissa merely turned to Kendra and dictated with a sneer, "Pedigree  _is_  pure blooded despite questionable family line. The name Weasley does not retain a high status within our circles."

"Well Mrs. Malfoy, not only am I a Weasley, I also am half Prewett, a family that has not been oh so disgraced by your 'circles'. Furthermore, I need not remind you that I also descend from the highly esteemed House of Black through my grandmother," Ginny retorted with satisfaction.

A tense wave of silence washed over the room. Narcissa stared long and hard at her, with a cool but mysterious glint in her eyes, lips thin. Ginny couldn't discern what the woman was thinking. She remained steadfast in holding a strong and determined glare at her teacher, although she showed signs of breaking such as the involuntary gulp she took. After some moments, Mrs. Malfoy broke her gaze and walked away, conjuring a clipboard and writing down her own personal notes.

_Great, I've bollocksed up my chance here and am going to get kicked out._  Ginny sighed wearily. She could kiss her quaint flat near Wizarding London good-bye. And she had just settled on the loveliest shade of blue for the walls.

Narcissa returned back to her place at the mantelpiece and re-addressed the group. "Miss Lamorak will now give out your housing assignments." Kendra started to make her way down the line handing small slips of parchment to each woman. "The women will be housed in one wing of the second floor with the men housed separately in a separate wing. Please make your way up and get acquainted with your roommate. Your belongings have already been sorted and brought up to the rooms."

*****

Escorted by yet another house elf, Ginny walked into the large, expansive room that would be hers for the rest of the summer. She glanced around at her quarters: two king size beds were comfortably aligned in the large but cozy room, there was two desks and dressers, as well as a communal sitting area. The room was absolutely lovely with the bright light coming in from the large window. At least even if she had to suffer, she would be comfortable while doing so. Ginny walked out onto the balcony and closed her eyes, pinching her nose. She let out a deep, long sigh.

"Well that was revolting and demeaning, wasn't it?" a voice called out from behind her with a chuckle. She turned around to see one of the girls she had seen during the inspection in the doorway of the room.

"I'm Lena, Lena Shafiq. I guess we're rooming together," she said, stepping in, setting her cloak down. Lena had large, friendly almond-shaped eyes and some of the most beautiful brunette hair Ginny had ever seen. It was an intense dark brown that it looked almost black. Her thick mane wafted down in cascading waves down to the middle of her back. Her high cheekbones and elegant features were only highlighted by her olive skin. She was a bit taller than Ginny, and had graceful curves many of the other girls would kill for. In short, she was gorgeous.

At this point, both girls had made their way towards the sitting area of the room.

"I'm Ginny," the redhead said with a sheepish smile. "I'm glad I didn't get one of those cows out there we just encountered."

Lena laughed. "Tell me about it. This whole charade is kind of ridiculous."

"Say, you have a bit of a French accent. My sister-in-law is French as well. Did you happen to attend Beauxbatons?"

As they got to talking, Ginny learned that Lena was indeed a student of Beauxbatons. Though her family had Egyptian roots, her grandparents had decided to move to Wizarding Britain when many of their businesses were doing well overseas. Lena grew up in London as a child, but her parents had opted to send her to France to get a more well-rounded experience.

"I guess they like to think the French are more cultured and what not," Lena said with a wry smile. "However, when I came back to London town after being transferred from my potioneer job at L'apothicaire de Domnin, my parents wanted me to get re-acclimated into the local social circles here. I fought them off for a bit, but eventually conceded. I just figured it would be a good way to meet some of my peers, but this is definitely not my cup of tea."

Ginny let out a sigh of relief. "Thank Merlin! I swear I thought I was the only one here who thinks this whole thing is asinine. I'm only doing so to appease my late grandmother's wishes."  _And Galleons_ , her conscious reminded her. She quickly pushed that thought aside.

A gong sounded, signaling the students to return back to the drawing room. As they made their way down, the fell into an easy conversation. Ginny felt a bit better knowing there was at least one normal human amongst these strange society creatures.

*****

Narcissa had left the students to their own devices and let them mingle prior to dinner. It was a sort of cocktail hour, she surmised, although the alcohol was unfortunately missing. Ginny and Lena stuck to each other as they discussed the rest of the group they would be with during the summer. Naturally, the conversation turned to the prospects of men and the pickings were slim.

"Wow, there are very few… attractive guys here," Lena remarked, scrunching her nose.

"Well half of them are practically inbred," Ginny shuddered.

They continued to glance around until Lena nearly purred, "Well, well, well, what do we have over there? Those blokes aren't so bad."

Ginny grimaced when she saw who Lena was gesturing to. Figures it would be Draco Malfoy and his motley crew.

"Two out of three are rather lovely," Ginny agreed. She gave the trio a look over. There was Blaise Zabini, who looked just as handsome as ever with his tall frame. His pleasant features were pulled into a smirk and dark skin glowing as he was animatedly speaking to his friends. The third man of the group, she didn't recognize, was as tall as the others, but had a rather stocky frame. He looked more rugged than the other two, with sandy brown hair and friendly brown eyes.

"Come on, Ginny, you'd have to be blind not to think Draco Malfoy is attractive," Lena protested. Ginny said nothing but reluctantly agreed silently. Time had served Draco well, and as insufferable as he was, she had to admit it. His platinum hair was effortlessly coiffed back and to the side but still looked soft, as opposed to the slicked back hairdo he used to sport in his earlier years. His pallor, although light as ever, looked healthier than she had seen it in the past when it was lacking luster. His grey eyes were welcoming for once as he chatted with his friends. She noticed that he had filled out his tall, slender frame and still had the nice athletic build of a Seeker. His shoulders were broad and torso long. What was most alarming was the fact that Draco Malfoy's good looks were only amplified when he was laughing and smiling, as he was with his friends. She had never seen a pleasant expression on Malfoy's face and it suited him well. All in all, Ginny grudgingly decided that Malfoy was not ugly, that is, if one went for sharp and pointed features like his.

"I usually go for the tall, dark, and handsome. Not the tall, pasty, and cocky," Ginny commented, taking a long sip of her pumpkin juice. Lena merely snickered at the girl's delayed response.

They continued to giggle over Blaise and the other unnamed man from a distance. However, Ginny's Gryffindor bravery had vanished when Lena tried to drag her over to mingle with the men.

"Come on, Ginny! Let's at least go say hullo!" Lena grabbed Ginny's hand and started pulling her over towards them, despite Ginny's protests. She was about to enter the snake pit and the fierce lioness that normally pervaded within had shrunken to a bumbling cub.

*****

"Honestly, Draco, you need to get over Bridget. It's been over a month now and you're still pining for the ungrateful bint," Blaise told his best mate.

"Bugger off, Blaise," Draco scowled. "Besides, I've already moved on. On to Althea, and Isabelle, and…"

"Yup," Blaise smirked. "Totally unaffected."

A month ago, Bridget Latimer, Draco Malfoy's longtime girlfriend, abruptly broke up with him. She had just returned from a spring trip to the Bavarian Alps, and apparently had gotten very cozy with some German ponce. And the ponce decided to follow Bridget back to England, and she happily dumped Draco at the last charity event they had gone to. She walked away into the shining sunset with her thick-headed new man who likened himself to Thor. For all of his muscle and girth, he seemed incredibly slow.

In Draco's mind, he and Bridget were the perfect couple in image and on parchment. They both had aristocratic good looks, honorable lineage, and a vast amount of wealth and connections. He had imagined that they would be together forever. It had come to him as a shock when she decided to run off with that oaf; what did that guy have that Draco didn't?  _Nothing, that's what._

"Who the hell does she think she is, anyway?" Draco seethed. "There are plenty of girls out there, and l can shag the living daylights out of every one of them. Bridget Latimer is totally replaceable."

"Spare me the lecture about replaceable, because we're talking about Bridget Latimer here," the third man in their group, Maxwell Fawley, replied.

"Sorry, mate. He's right," Blaise agreed.

Maxwell scoffed, "Of course l'm right." He took a gulp of his pumpkin juice. "l mean, the girl's an institution in our society. Every woman wants to be her, and every bloke wants to bang her."

Draco would never admit it but Maxwell was right. Bridget was tall, with flowing blonde hair, and a body that all of the other girls envied and tried to emulate. Her hazel eyes sparkled with mischief as she would make the rounds at parties, basking in all of the glory that was bestowed upon her. She set many of the trends in their social circles, and was the image of the perfect trophy wife.

Blaise added, "Basically, she's you... with knockers."

"Don't be daft," Draco countered. "The Bridget Latimer you just described is an illusion, a myth. You strip away all of that attitude and beauty charms, and all you have is a social climbing witch with an expansive wardrobe."

Maxwell rolled his eyes. "Give it up, Draco."

Draco's eyes searched throughout the room until he locked in on one figure. "Take, uh... Take her, for example," he pointed at a young witch in a teal dress. "She's short, has a decent rack, and has a bit of that librarian look about her. But given the right clothes, the right boyfriend, and voila! In eight weeks, she'll be Belle of the Ball." Though there were no official titles given out during the Debutante Ball, the society pages had named one girl out of the lot as the "Belle of the Ball" for many years. She was the girl that had captured the attention of the most men that night and charmed all that she came across. It was considered an honor to be recognized as such, and a strong indicator that she was perfect wife material, inside and out.

"You're not actually serious, are you?" Maxwell looked at Draco quizzically, wondering where he would take this.

"As dragon pox."

"You're evidently delusional," Maxwell cried, incredulously. Shifting gears, he pondered a moment. Knitting his eyebrows, he said, "But, how about a chance to prove me wrong?"

"Blimey! Hold on," Blaise interjected, getting between the two men. "Max, Max, Max. The man's clearly mental right now. You're taking advantage of a friend in a very vulnerable state."

Draco batted his eyelashes and said sarcastically, "My, my, my. I didn't know you cared in that way, Zabini."

Blaise gestured rudely to him.

"I'm being serious here. The bloke thinks he could do anything. Let him prove it. What do you say, Malfoy?" Maxwell taunted.

"A wager?" Draco asked, with a raised eyebrow.

"Yes," said Maxwell. "Unless, of course, you're too heartbroken."

Somewhere in the back of his mind, his brain was telling him not to do this. Max always came up with the stupidest bets and pranks, which usually ended up being more trouble than they were worth. But life had gotten even duller since Bridget left. It was the same thing over and over again: meet with the Board of the Malfoy Estate, go to dull charity balls and society galas, interact with attractive and vapid tarts, and so on. It had become so predictable, and he still hadn't found a direction of his own. Sure there was the Estate to maintain, but Draco also wanted to pursue a career. Although a career in what, he didn't know. He barely had the time to think about those things during his school days, and then after the war he had become the head of the house prematurely. It left Draco once again, with no clear direction in his life.

He had eventually come to terms that he wasn't even all that angry that Bridget had broken up with him. It was actually a relief when he reflected later. The relationship had become routine and stale; there was a small spark between them to begin with and what little was there had fizzled out. There was something missing though he didn't know what. He was angrier at the fact that anyone could reject  _him._  How dare she have the nerve to do that! He was supposed to break it off with her, not the other way around. His anger brought about a lack of clarity, and that was what happened when he decided to say, "Just name the bloody terms," spat Draco, taking a big swig of his beverage.

"All right, it's simple," Maxwell explained. "I'll pick the bird, and you have eight weeks to turn her into the Belle."

Maxwell rubbed his hands feverishly, eager to get started. "All right. Let's go shopping." He laughed. "Oh, gods, this is going to be amazing."

The three men began to scan the room for potential victims. Blaise gestured at a girl near one of the expansive windows. "What about her?"

"Blaise, she's a straight minger!" Maxwell said in a scandalized tone.

The unfortunate girl looked like she was about to have an anxiety attack. She was squeaking erratically and hyperventilating. Her face was blotchy from being flushed, which only exacerbated her unfavorable features. The only thing that was keeping her together was a consoling friend, who looked a bit frazzled herself.

"You sure?" asked Blaise.

Maxwell asserted, "We can do better than her."

"And, let's be realistic," Draco cut in. "I need to live in this town. Plain, I can fix. I can't fix what's hereditary." He shuddered at the thought of the unattractive girl's hands on him.

Draco turned around and said, "What about her?"

He pointed to a tall woman with a brunette bob.

"Rectal archaeology. Very nice." Blaise nodded approvingly.

They continued circling the room for a bit longer when in the distance Maxwell heard, "No, Lena! I am not going to go over there! You'll only catch me next to Malfoy when all hell freezes over!" Maxwell whirled around to a woman trying to push a stubborn looking red-head in front of her, towards their direction. Unfortunately for the other woman, the redhead was vehemently not budging from her spot.

Maxwell's lips curled into a mischievous smile. "Gentlemen, we have a winner," he directed the other two with his head.

Draco's eyes widened and he nearly choked on his drink. Surely his mate couldn't be that barmy! "What, Ginny Weasley!? This is where I draw the line, Fawley!"

"Hey, a bet's a bet. Right, Blaise?" Maxwell nudged Blaise for assistance.

Blaise laughed but put his hands up as a sign of surrender. "This is between you guys."

Draco exhaled heavily. "Look, fat l can handle. Wonky breasts, bad personality, maybe some sort of fungus. Ill-mannered and being completely inaccessible is another story. Furthermore, her lot has practically been disowned; I honestly don't know what Mother was thinking letting the likes of her into the Conservatory. This society is beginning to go to the dogs."

"Well, she  _is_  a pure-blood, like it or not," Blaise pointed out.  _Thanks for stating the obvious, Zabini._  Draco snorted.

"Hey, mate, if l were you, l wouldn't be wasting my time," said Maxwell, "because according to my calculations you have eight weeks until the Ball. And if Ginny Weasley is going to be the Belle, I would say you have got your work cut out for you. You better put that Malfoy charm on full blast."

"Look on the bright side mate, she's quite fit... even after all these years," Blaise commented, trying to improve the outlook of the situation.

Draco looked wearily at the insane witch that was surprisingly making her way towards them. He supposed Blaise  _was_  right, but he always had a strange soft spot for the Gryffindor. Ginny was one of the prettier girls in their school, and captured the attention of many guys in their later years. It seemed over time she had matured into a lovely woman. She had ample breasts, pleasing hips and a great bum to boot, but that dress she was wearing was not doing her any favors. Her hair wasn't as vomit-inducing like that brash orange the men in her family seemed to inherit, rather it had intense of hues of reds. It wasn't what he liked, but he supposed it was alright; it seemed soft, at least. Ginny wasn't as spotted as that ugly buffoon that was her brother, though she still had a sprinkle of freckles on her cheeks and trailed down her neck, disappearing underneath her collar.  _I wonder if the trail continues,_ Draco idly wondered.  _Snap out of it, Malfoy!_

Unfortunately, the two witches had finally made their way across the room to the wizard. Draco sighed inwardly. He had to do his best to charm the knickers off the Weaslette, as much as the thought made him ill. There was no way Draco Malfoy was losing a bet; he had his honor to uphold after all.

"Hullo," the brown haired girl said brightly. "My name is Lena Shafiq," She shook hands with each of the men, and the shook it, exchanging pleasantries. Blaise, on the other hand, took her hand and kissed the back of it.

"Enchanted," Blaise drawled. Lena's cheeks flushed but her eyes were twinkling back into his.  _Oh brother, he's already laying it on thick._

Meanwhile, a sullen Ginny hung back, hesitant to make any moves. Maxwell nudged Draco to make a move, but he didn't budge either. His friend rolled his eyes and instead offered a hand to the youngest Weasley.

"I apologize on behalf of my insolent friend," Maxwell indicated with a nod of the head to Draco. "I'm Maxwell Fawley. You can call me Max, if you'd like," and he gave her a rogueish smile.

"No need to apologize on behalf of Malfoy, Max," Ginny replied, sweetly. "I see he's just as rude as he was back in our Hogwarts days. Rather ironic as well, considering his mother is apparently the supreme authority on manners." She gave him a dirty look.

"You must be used to it Weasley, what with that riff-raff you call your family," Draco sneered. "It must have rubbed off on you after all these years. No wonder you need to be taught etiquette – you never had any!"  _So much for charming her._  He didn't care right now. Who was she to talk to him like this? No one, that's who. Bets be damned.

Ginny gave him an icy glare that eerily reminded him of his mother's own withering stares. He tried to keep his composure, unwilling to give in. "Still the pompous, arrogant, self-centered slimy prat, eh, Malfoy? You've become so predictable." Ginny turned on her heel and devoted all of her attention to Maxwell and Blaise, effectively shutting Draco out of the conversation.

Luckily for him, he was saved by the meal gong, indicating that it was time for dinner. The group parted ways, and Draco made sure that he sat far, far away from Ginny Weasley. Instead, he focused his attention on talking about last week's Quidditch match and other current events. The overwhelming situation went on the backburner as he enjoyed his potatoes and roast beef.

*****

Dinner went on peacefully as the students ate merrily. Ginny welcomed the distraction, suddenly realizing just how hungry she was. While Ginny and Lena discussed their predictions for the school, Ginny couldn't help but notice that several of the girls kept sending her dirty looks. Some were whispering and gesticulating in their direction. She stood firm, refusing to give into the animosity.

Soon enough, the class filed back into the drawing room for final comments by Mrs. Malfoy. Ginny sighed. She was tired after this long, exhausting day of being around people she didn't like, and lessons hadn't even commenced yet.

Narcissa brushed past Ginny as she made her way through the crowd back to her spot in front of the mantelpiece. Amplifying her voice with her wand, she began, "This will be a dry institution for the most part." A panic of murmurs ran through the crowd.  _I have to get through two months of this without the opportunity to be completely sloshed?!_ At least she wasn't alone in her misery. Some of the wizards were giving each other looks of horror. Narcissa rolled her eyes and rapped her wand on the mantelpiece, calling the crowd back to attention.

"Yes, Mr. Nott, please pick up your mouth from the ground. You will not be inebriated through the duration of this program." Narcissa elaborated. "I will not have any of your minds clouded with spirits. Everyone must be on their toes and simply do their best. There will be occasions where alcohol will be served-" a few sigh of reliefs wavered through the students "-and in those instances it is permitted but otherwise cherish those last drops of wine you had at dinner."

Narcissa continued, "Which brings me to my next point, everyone has a curfew; there will be no 1 A.M. pub crawls on random nights when you are in this program or fraternizing with one another, if you catch my drift. We are here to hone all of your social skills in every aspect of your lives. We are here to promote good and proper marriages in order to continue to foster a successful group of witches and wizards that will be the leaders of your generation. We are here to preserve our kind. Mulieres Viginte Octo is committed to safeguarding the prosperity of the future."

Mrs. Malfoy switched gears. "After much deliberation, we have come up with the partners for your duration in the Conservatory. You two will be working together in many instances to practice your etiquette." Kendra eagerly handed her the clipboard, pushing her glasses back from the bridge of her nose. "Please come to the front when your name is called." Looking down at the clipboard, she began to go down the list.

Ginny's attention faded in and out as she waited for her name to come up. She cautiously hoped she would end up with Maxwell. He seemed friendly and his rugged looks didn't hurt either. That Scottish accent was also endearing. As if Narcissa had read her mind, Ginny heard, "Daphne Greengrass and Maxwell Fawley."

"Damnit," Ginny muttered. She was doomed to not enjoy herself, she had decided.

"…Lena Shafiq and Blaise Zabini," Narcissa called.

Ginny turned to see the eager face of Lena looking back at her. She was happy for her new friend. It was clearly evident that there was a spark between the two and that it was mutual. Although there was a small pang of disappointment that she wouldn't be able to be comforted by Blaise's smooth moves, she was still happy nonetheless.  _At least one of us will be having fun._

"And finally, Ginevra Weasley and Draco Malfoy."

Her stomach dropped.  _Definitely doomed._ There were some snickers as the final partnership was called out. Ginny gapped, standing frozen in shock. Why on earth would Narcissa pair her up with her son? She surely knew of the intense Malfoy-Weasley rivalry that had only intensified over the years while she was at Hogwarts. The woman was off her rocker and Ginny intended to tell her just that, respectful or not.

After a few moments she had recovered from the temporary paralysis that had her feet glued to the lavish carpet, and she started making her way. She couldn't help but notice that several of the girls threw her dark looks. "If you want him so much, you take him!" She hissed at one of the onlookers.

She was cut off on her warpath to Narcissa when the man of the hour decided to bless her with his presence, looking cool and collected. Why wasn't he just as infuriated as her? If it was possible, he disliked her more than she disliked him. She crossed her arms and jeered, "I had to be paired with you. You'd be the last person on this planet if I could choose..."

Draco's eyes narrowed at the scorn in her voice. "Honestly Weasel, when will you realize you have no say in your life? You were born a Weasley. You were given those ridiculous freckles, that red hair, and you're poor. You have no say in anything."

"You really think that?" Ginny challenged, only to be answered with a smirk and a nod. "Well, I still have the ability to choose my actions." She raised her leg and stomped on Draco's foot, giving him a satisfactory grin as he cried out in pain. Whirling around, she waded through the couples and found Mrs. Malfoy.

Malfoy was like the fly that would not leave no matter how much she swatted at it. Limping behind, she heard him mutter, "Stupid bint, I think you scuffed my shoe! This is the finest Italian leather!"

Mrs. Malfoy saw the livid woman and limping son in her line of vision and excused herself from her conversation and turned to face the duo. "And what can I help you two with?" She asked carefully.

"Please, Mrs. Malfoy…" Ginny began.

"Madame," Narcissa corrected.

" _Madame_ Malfoy," Ginny gritted her teeth, Draco rolled his eyes. "Please, you can't have us paired together. I'm sure you're aware of our… colorful history from Hogwarts."

"Do not question my judgment, Miss Weasley," Narcissa countered with finality. She walked away from the unlikely twosome, shutting down any room for further discussion.

Ginny gaped at the audacity of Narcissa. There was always room for discussion! She turned to see Draco smirking.

Her eyes narrowed and pointed at him, jabbing him in the chest. "You put your mother up to this, didn't you? You just wanted to make me miserable!" Ginny cried.

"Please Weasley, you give yourself far too much importance in my life," Malfoy replied, brushing off imaginary dirt from the spot where she kept poking him. "Do you really think I spend my days writing silly ideas in a diary all day? Oh wait, that's you."

"That's low, even for you!" Ginny cried, whipping out her wand. Manners be damned. She was going to hex Draco Malfoy into next Tuesday, and she was going to do it right now, right here. Eventually the small, logical side of herself took control and calmed her down. "…Eight… Nine… Ten," Ginny murmured, returning her wand to her pocket. Draco, who had braced himself in defense with his own wand, eventually lowered his as well, attempted to recollect himself back into his cool demeanor, waving a hand through his hair.

Stubborn as ever, Ginny tried to plead with Narcissa one last time. She found her again with Daphne and Maxwell, waiting patiently until they were done.

"Please Madame Malfoy, this will be disastrous for your son, for your Conservatory, and for your house," Ginny implored, her eyes looking pleadingly at the older woman. Her big eyes usually worked on everyone.

Except Narcissa, that is. "I have my reasons, Ginevra, so please heed my instructions well."

To Ginny's surprise, Draco stepped in to support her cause. "Mother, you know about our… tumultuous past. This won't bode well for the papers or the reputation of the organization."

Narcissa gave her son a smirk that rivaled his own. "Those very papers are why you two are being paired together. A woman of Miss Weasley's standing in today's society will only improve your reputation with the general public," She then gave a stern look to the both of them. "Now, this is the end of this discussion, and I will not have either of you trying to question my authority again. You are all dismissed for the night so be sure to get a good night's rest."

As Mrs. Malfoy walked away leaving a glowering Malfoy, Ginny laughed at him, relishing in the realization that she had the upper-hand in the situation. "Why so sad, Malfoy? Evidently  _you_  need me. Even your mother said it. I'll do my best, but even I cannot mend such a deep wound. It's more like an internal bleed."

"Please, I don't need your help," Draco scoffed, crossing his arms across his chest.

"Yes, you do," a new voice replied from behind him. Ginny turned to see Daphne Greengrass, another former Slytherin. Ginny remembered the blonde woman from Pansy Parkinson's gang of girls that were incredibly cruel to many of her friends and housemates.

"Besides, Draco, we all know that Weasley here is a charity case, Your mother is such a giving witch to have taken the time to do this for her," her voice dripping with malice as she placed a manicured hand on Draco's shoulder.

"Greengrass, you really do not want a piece of me right now," Ginny warned.

Daphne scoffed, rolling her eyes.

"I have passed all of my N.E.W.T.s with flying colors and I was able to bypass a year of Healer School. I'm the first witch or wizard in almost thirty years to do this!"

"Like that matters," Daphne responded, rolling her eyes and moved closer to Ginny. "You weren't bred with this. Consider yourself honored to be with Draco Malfoy," she gave her a dirty look, demonstrating how unworthy Ginny was to be in his presence. Daphne patted Draco on the shoulder as a sign of sympathy before swaying away.

Draco sniggered at Daphne's words of advice. "She's right, you know. You should be honored to be paired with me. "

"Shove it, Ferret face," she muttered, turning to make her way to the staircase.

Draco quickened his stride behind her, catching up easily with his long legs. His footsteps fell into place with hers, and he said, "Look, I can help you survive this whole ordeal, like it or not."

Ginny whirled around accusingly. "You have some insane Slytherin motive, don't you?"

He chuckled, making his way up the stairs. "You have clearly spent too much time around Mad Eye Moody, Weaselette."

They reached the top of the case, and Draco audibly sighed as he made his way to the right to the men's quarters. "I cannot believe I have to share a room. My mother is insane. She is taking this school thing too much to heart."

Ginny rolled her eyes. Did he know how petty he sounded? "Come off it. One of these rooms could fit the whole Burrow's floor plan."

Draco blankly looked back at her.

"Oh, you're not even going to try to be humble?" She asked, with her hands on her hips. Malfoy sure had some nerve.

"Why… you're stating the facts. Why should I lie?" He asked logically, with a raised eyebrow.

Ginny threw her hands up in the air in defeat and huffed, "You're unbearable!" She turned without so much as a farewell, retreating to her quarters.

*****

**A/N:** I hope you guys enjoyed that! The bet and shopping scene was inspired by and resembles _She’s All That_ (1999). I love the exchange between the guys, and had to use it here. I decided to add this chapter early since the intro is very short. **Please, please leave a review** on your way out, it makes my week!


	3. Lessons

For all of the complaints Ginny had about her circumstances at the Manor, she could not complain about the luxurious bed she was given to sleep in. She wasn’t sure if it was because she was so exhausted from yesterday’s ordeal or if the bed proved to be so comfortable that she had fallen asleep so quickly. The morning gong had gone off, signaling that there were forty five minutes until breakfast would be on the table. 

“I could get used to these delicious meals, I have to admit,” Ginny greeted her roommate who had just returned from the bathroom. The redhead extended her arms above her head, yawning and stretching.

“Agreed! It beats my shoddy attempts at cooking any day,” Lena replied as she got out her clothes for the day. “I regret not taking homemaking classes at Beauxbatons. I couldn’t be arsed about it then, thinking I wouldn’t need any of those types of skills… Apparently I forgot I should have learned to take care of myself at the very least!”

“Rather a strange twist of fate that a potioneer can’t combine ingredients to make something nontoxic,” Ginny commented, giggling.

Lena sighed as she pulled her top over her head, “Irony at its finest. I am rather well-versed in numerous types of poisons and innocuous concoctions, however.”

Following her friend’s example, Ginny went over to the wardrobe to pull together something presentable to wear. Yesterday’s outfit was not very well received by Narcissa and she wanted to rectify that. The only problem was that she had such few clothes that were presentable. Aside from the couple of weddings and Ministry functions, Ginny didn’t really buy fancy outfits. She was saved by the lime green robes that were a part of a Healer’s uniform for most of her days. The incredibly expansive wardrobe only proved that point. It felt almost barren with her few garments carefully hung up. She was sure she could reach all the way to the back of an alternate universe. Picking out a fresh blouse and skirt, Ginny brushed her hair into a simple bun. She was going to start off the morning right, even if today was going to be a challenge.

When she got down to the long breakfast table, she felt so plain in comparison to the other witches' wardrobes. Ginny couldn’t help but pitifully sigh at the sight of the other girls’ clothes.  Though her clothes were tastefully appropriate, they couldn't compare to the expensive brands and styles the others had. Any of her other dresses would have been too "low cut" or "racy" like her Aunt Muriel would chastise.

Ginny and Lena occupied a seemingly shunned span of the long dining table. Many of the girls kept giving Ginny – and Lena by mere association – unsatisfactory glances throughout their meal. She couldn’t help but roll her eyes. Surely the group had gotten over her seemingly extraordinary presence in the Conservatory?

In between bites of her bangers and mash, Ginny muttered, “I feel like I’m back in Hogwarts or something. These buzzing bees can’t seem to quiet down.”

Lena shot the current offenders a dirty look and ushered Ginny to wave them off. “Forget them, Gin. It’s evidently too much for their tiny brains to process...” With a scowl, Lena added to an outraged pudgy girl, “Yes, I’m looking at you, you cow! Focus on your own damn breakfast!”

Ginny sighed discontentedly as she forced herself to finish her breakfast. Lunch would not be for a long while, and she really needed to keep her strength up if she was to deal with Narcissa’s wrath, the catty girls’ attitude, and Draco Malfoy. She shot a customary haughty glance in the direction of Draco.

Once again, he was laughing and enjoying himself a jolly good conversation with his blokes. He looked so well rested and at ease. It was evident that this was his natural habitat and he thrived in it. Ginny audibly growled, clenching her fork tightly in her fist. It was completely unfair that he seemed unfazed by yesterday’s predicament. Why was he so nonchalant about their strange arrangement? It bothered her even more that it _didn’t_ bother him. _Stupid, strange, sadistic Slytherins._ She gave him another look, shooting imaginary daggers out of her eyes, before returning to her morning meal.

*****

After breakfast, the class filed into a large room filled with desks row by row. The room clashed between its permanent decor and temporary function. Amidst the ornamental wallpaper and ornery paintings was a large blackboard with wheels in the front of the room with a teacher’s desk. Name tags were hovering above each desk, indicating where everyone was supposed to seat.

“I had no idea we were back in primary,” Lena said, breezing by Ginny as found her seat. Luckily, they were sitting close to each other. Unluckily, her partner was sitting diagonally behind her. She didn’t like having her back to him. It was like letting her guard down. Who knows what he would do to try to ruin this for her? She had only heard of the horrible Potions classes her brother and friends had to deal with in company of Malfoy; she could only begin to imagine what he could do as a full-fledged wizard. 

The morning passed by uneventfully to Ginny’s surprise. It seemed that in the mornings the students would be taught various lessons on the topic of the week. For the first week of lessons, Narcissa had decided to provide an overview of Pure-blood society, informing the class on their history up to current events. She also lightly delved into an overview of some of the rituals, occasions, and etiquette of the tight knit community. Much to her disbelief, some of the information proved to be interesting. She learned little-known facts about her own families as well as the families of some of her friends. For instance, as she examined the spider web-like infographic she had created based on the tangled bloodlines of the Sacred families, Ginny had discovered that Blaise Zabini was distantly related to the Fawley family, thanks to a grandmother or a great grandmother. She could barely tell where the lines intersected anymore. Or that Maxwell Fawley’s immediate family rose to prominence only two generations ago thanks to an influx of Galleons. All in all, Mrs. Malfoy was a formidable professor, exhibiting a wide breadth of knowledge about Wizarding history and sociology. She was very organized in her teaching, with her points well-organized and articulated clearly to the class.

Ginny supposed this wasn’t so bad. They would be breaking for a light lunch in twenty minutes time. The daily session would reconvene in the afternoon for the practical portion of the day. The class would put into practice what they had been learning throughout the week. At the end of the week, there was an examination to test the students on the material. While Ginny Weasley was no Hermione Granger, she knew she could excel in this regard so long as she worked and studied hard…

…If only she didn't have the stupidest partner ever. Ginny could get full marks in all of their written exams, but they were also evaluated for how well each partnership cooperated as well as evaluated for their teamwork and collaboration. She couldn’t imagine any of their practical exams going smoothly when Malfoy was her partner. Perhaps his lazy Slytherin tendencies would kick in and she would be able to deal with the brunt of the burden. While she didn’t appreciate a partner who didn’t do their work, Ginny would rather have control over the situation than let Draco Malfoy muck it all up.

Before she knew it, the class was dismissed for lunch much to the relief of everyone in the room. The determined former Gryffindor quickly shoved her belongings in her bag and made a beeline for the dining room. Breakfast had seemed like an eternity ago! 

*****

Draco was quite relieved when they were finally dismissed for lunch. He had avoided the Weasel the entire morning mostly because whenever he dared to speak, he infuriated her. Truth be told, whenever she opened her mouth, it infuriated him too. Draco would instead make matters worse with a snide remark, or worse, laugh at her. It irritated him to no end that someone would be so ungrateful to be paired up with him that he kept overlooking the fact that he needed to be nice to her for the sake of the bet.

Unable to figure out a clever way to appease her and solve his own dilemma, he decided it was wisest to back off for the time being. It was best to quietly observe and study the situation at hand so he could create an informed decision. However, the morning session has been so boring. All of the things his mother was explaining to the class were things he had already known. He had heard this many times before; his own family tree intersected many times into this convoluted timeline of pure blood society. Instead he decided to doodle on his parchment, and when that did little to amuse him he focused on trying to irritate Weasley. 

Try as he might, Draco kept trying to get the Weaselette’s attention but she wouldn't budge. He leaned in and tried to whisper and even resorted to throwing up crumpled up balls of parchment at her but she ignored everything. Instead she intently listened to every word coming out of his mother’s mouth, jotting every so often. He was mildly impressed; her notes seemed quite detailed and neat when he leaned in to peer over her shoulder. She had eerily become a bit more like Granger in her work habits.

After all of his failed attempts, he retreated to staring out of the window for the rest of the morning, effectively tuning out Narcissa. He wished his mother hadn't been so bent on making sure that she wasn't showing him favoritism and ensuring he comply with each portion of the program. _Sure,_ now _she decides to exhibit some tough love after being mummy's little boy_ , he thought wryly.

Even if he was single right at this moment, he didn’t really know why he was even in this room in the first place. Draco had had relations of some kind with most of the women in the room, but he had to comply with his mother’s wishes. Though he was the sole heir to the entire Malfoy estate and the head of the house financially, his mother would always truly be in control. He tried to cheer himself up by remembering that there were some decent looking girls here and he could use a fun distraction.

As Draco settled down next to Blaise for lunch, he breathed a sigh of relief. Weaving a hand through his hair, he stole a quick look at Ginny. She actually seemed a bit peppy after the morning session, animatedly talking to her friend. It surprised him. Whenever he interacted with her, she was rude, brash, and ready to hex him at the first opportunity.

“That was a bunch of codswollop, wasn’t it?” Blaise said, interrupting Draco’s thoughts as he handed him the platter of sandwiches.

Taking a sandwich for himself, Draco replied, “Here, here. Half of the class probably knew all of that like the back of their hand.”

“Apparently your partner didn’t,” Blaise responded, gesturing towards Ginny. “Say, how is the attempt at reforming Eliza Doolittle?”

Draco rolled his eyes. “I haven’t even spoken to her since last night. The bint stomped on my foot!”

“Malfoy, knowing you, you probably deserved it,” Blaise answered sagely, clapping his friend on the back.

“Here, here!” Maxwell interjected, joining the conversation. “The sand in the hourglass is slipping away, mate. You best get on with our bet.”

“Thanks. For. The. Reminder,” Draco spat out, gritting his teeth. _Bloody idiot, always stating the obvious._

Eventually their conversation shifted topics and lunch began to pass on peacefully. Draco finally relaxed as he dug into his meal. Just as they were finishing, he overheard some of the commotion that was beginning at the end of the table.

There was Daphne Greengrass and her makeshift pack of minions. Draco smirked at the image before him. With her old friend Pansy Parkinson absent from the program, she felt obligated to take on the queen bee role. Her second-hand was the more mousey Tracey Davis, who happily indulged Daphne’s demands. A couple of other girls had also sat with them, forming what looked like the former Slytherin Horde from Hogwarts.

Daphne threw back her cascading blonde hair and said audibly, “Did you see what that Weasley pauper was wearing today? How sad it must be to barely be able to put two knuts together for a presentable outfit.”

The girls all agreed, nodding their heads gravely. Satisfied with her cronies, Daphne continued, “Where does she shop anyway? The rubbish bin? Those designs and patterns are from a decade ago, at the very least.”

The girls continued to giggle maliciously and make jokes at Ginny’s expense. Every so often they turned to make sure she could hear their very loud conversation. Draco was amazed to notice that while Ginny’s face was turning red, she had not made her way over to them to hex the daylights out of the women.

“…It’s a shame Potter dumped her. I actually kind of admired her for that catch. A woman after my own heart,” Daphne said, dramatically putting a hand to her heart. “She saw the galleon signs behind that name and went after it.”

“I can’t blame Potter though. He probably realized what a hopeless situation he was in. I’m surprised he came to his senses,” she continued, as the girls began to get up to make their way up to their afternoon session. “Poor bastard. Must have had to support all of those ragamuffin Weasleys.”

As they passed by Ginny and Lena, who were silent, Tracey quipped gravely, “I heard she had to take a job as a caretaker at St. Mungo’s to support herself. She’s probably used to all of that sweeping and cleaning though.” The laughter of the girls rebounded as they walked out.

Draco noticed that by now Ginny was getting ready to charge the women. Luckily Lena tackled the redhead just in time, preventing her from doing something incredibly stupid.

“LET GO OF ME, LENA! LET ME AT THEM!” Ginny shouted at the top of her lungs from underneath her friend, struggling to break from her grasp. “When I see that Daphne I’m going to rip all of that blonde hair out of her scalp!”

Draco sighed. Daphne was laying it on incredibly thick. Eventually, however, the wheels in his brain began to turn. A wicked smile slowly began to appear on his face. Perhaps, he thought, he could use this fodder to his advantage.

*****

That second session of the day became a crash course in introductions. As the class haphazardly gathered into yet another large room in the Manor, Narcissa began with her instruction. Weaving in and out of the class, she began, “Today, we will begin with the simplest of tasks. In proper circles, you are to greet each other with respect. There are no meek handshakes or murmurs of hello.”

Narcissa returned to the front of the room, and looked at all of her students firmly. “As such, the men will be practicing their firmest of handshakes and bowing. The women,” she shifted to look at them, “will practice their curtseys.”

Ginny snorted. She couldn’t remember the last time she had actually curtseyed for someone. In fact, she was pretty sure she had never done that before. “Why can’t we practice handshakes too? I have a fantastic handshake,” she murmured.

Lena smirked, still keeping her eye on the demonstration in front of them. Narcissa was demonstrating with Kendra the importance of one’s grip during the process of the handshake. She then moved on to demonstrate the second maneuver.

“All of the women of this pseudo-court will be curtseying to the audience at the Ball. A curtsey is performed by one of lower social ranking to one who has a higher senior standing. While we do not participate in front of the Queen anymore,” Narcissa paused, looking visibly displeased at the thought. “You all must still respect the higher ranking members of society that you will be introduced to.”

“Kendra will demonstrate the maneuver for us,” Madame Malfoy gestured to her assistant. “Remember to carefully grab the hems of your skirts-” Kendra followed the directions by grabbing the ends of her skirt, “and gently bend.” She swept her right leg behind the other, gently bending in the direction of the older woman.

“Now, practice your curtsey and bows with each other. We will be walking around the room to assess and provide assistance if needed,” Waving her hands, she indicated to the class to start the lesson.

Ginny felt silly curtseying to the girls around her but acquiesced to Narcissa’s requests. Just when she thought she was beginning to get the hang of it, Narcissa came towards her. Unconsciously, she took a gulp of air. Having to curtsey to Narcissa was very uncomfortable. She had seen Hannah and Lena get through the interaction smoothly and hoped for the best. But, Ginny felt every bit the pauper she had been called earlier as she bowed in front of Mrs. Malfoy. Narcissa towered over her regally with her well-groomed appearance and wispy robes. In an alternate reality, Narcissa would played the part of the queen with ease; her imperial attitude was on display at that very moment.

They shifted gears eventually, moving onto the second part of today’s lesson. “We will now be moving onto practicing posture. You must never slouch when in proper company. It looks very rude and unbecoming. It shows a lack of confidence in yourself, which is a very unattractive quality,” Mrs. Malfoy explained, looking as if she was smelling something foul. Standing tall, with her chin upward elongating her graceful neck, she elegantly floated past the class.

Narcissa made her way to the boys’ section to make sure they were following the demonstration, leaving the girls on their own for the time being. Carefully making sure neither Narcissa nor Kendra were looking, Daphne seized the opportunity. Pushing her way through some of the girls, she began to walk horribly, unable to move in a straight line.

“This is how a frumpy Weasley walks,” Daphne stated, laughing wickedly. She hunched over and ruffled her hair, putting a vacant yet pained expression on her face. “Look, I’m Ginny Weasley, and I wear atrocious, outdated clothes. I can barely keep the roof over my head!” She bumbled to and fro’, delighting in the laughter from a couple of the other girls.

Morgan Cornwall meanly quipped, “Just look at that ridiculous red hair. It looks like scraggly copper wires are shooting out of her head!” She pointed in the offender’s direction.

“And those freckles, what a shame! You would have thought that she would have gotten that fixed by now. She's an adult, not a pig-tailed adolescent!” Tracey chimed in.

“The Weasel lot can barely afford to put food on the table let alone purchase custom glamour charms, Tracey,” Daphne replied, crossing her arms as she settled in between the others.

Ginny snatched the heavy book on her head that was used to calibrate her balance. She was livid. How dare all of these girls continue to disparage her name?! Especially when she was a few feet away! She whirled around and bounded towards the girls.

“At least I didn't have to buy my face, Daphne,” Ginny snapped. A crowd was now beginning to form around the new rivals.

“If you did, I hope you kept the receipt because you were cheated," Daphne retorted.

“Wait a minute…” Ginny squinted her eyes, closely examining the offending girl’s facial features. “Say, is this your fourth nose?" 

Daphne gasped dramatically, looking scandalized at the insinuation. She clapped a manicured hand around her nose.

“How dare you!” Tracey interjected, pushing her way through. “Daphne's incredibly sensitive about her nasal issues! She has a very serious medical condition and had to have a world class Healer from Luxembourg Flooed in!” Tracey sympathetically put an arm around Daphne’s shoulder, comforting her overly distraught friend.

“She has a disease, alright,” Lena retorted. “It’s called narcissism.”

As if she heard the mention of her name, whistling sparks of electric blue flew over the crowd, silencing them all. All of the young women turned to see a disapproving Narcissa looking back at them. She cleared her throat, “That is all quite enough, ladies! We will not have any sort of this behavior during class. It completely undermines the mission of this program!”

While the rest of the class settled back into formation into practicing their walks and posture, Ginny noticed a certain blond laughing at the situation. She didn’t miss when Draco elbowed Maxwell in the ribs, gesturing to the scene that had just happened. As they both laughed, Ginny desperately wanted to wipe foolish grin off of Malfoy’s face. Seeing the book in her hands, she smiled evilly.

“Oi, Malfoy!” Ginny shouted, the book in her hand. Bewildered, he automatically turned at the sound of his name.

_SMACK._

That was the sound of Malfoy’s face meeting the front cover of the book that was formerly in Ginny’s hands. She couldn’t think of a better way to remove that silly expression off of his face. Dusting her hands off from a job well done, she cheerfully walked away, taking great pleasure in hearing the groans of Draco Malfoy behind her.

*****

Draco sank into an armchair in front of one of several fireplaces in the room, goblet in hand, with a deep sigh. The students were provided with a communal meeting place to enjoy their evenings. He was not in the mood to socialize and mingle with the others; it was time to relax. As his eyes watched the flames dance in the hearth, he couldn’t help but be reminded of a certain redheaded witch. This had been the longest first day ever, and Draco could thank his lovely partner for that. Her dramatic catfight had not only cost them demerits from their evaluation, but a lengthy lecture from his mother.

Of course, that didn’t last long as Max and Blaise were not far behind. Draco groaned inwardly as they settled into the nearby armchairs. As much as he enjoyed the company of his best friends, he was in a foul mood.

“How’s your nose doing, Malfoy?” Maxwell asked with a smirk, referring to the day’s events.

“Just fine, no thanks to you,” Draco responded icily. “Stupid girl is already costing us points and the week has barely started!”

“It’s your own fault you were laughing like an idiot,” Maxwell responded testily.

Draco’s eyes narrowed. “And who was the cackling buffoon next to me? That book could’ve easily been thrown in your face.”

“My last name’s not Malfoy,” Max replied coolly.

Before Draco could retaliate with an insult, Blaise quickly interrupted. “Say, has anyone read the results from yesterday’s winged horse races?”

Giving Max one last steely glance, he turned to Blaise grimly. “It was a dull and uneventful race.”

Blaise raised an eyebrow quizzically at his friend. Evidently not taking Draco’s word for it, he hastily snatched a copy of _The Daily Prophet_ from a nearby classmate’s hand, ignoring their cries of objection. Straightening out the paper, he flipped through the pages until he found the Sports section. Draco saw Blaise’s dark eyes grow wider as his eyes traveled back and forth across the page.

Throwing the paper aside, Blaise cried triumphantly, “Ha! See, I told you I’d win! Now, be a good lad and cough up the ten galleons you owe me.”

“You just got lucky! My poor dear Hestia got influenza and was unable to race this week!” Draco sniffed. His prize-winning winged horse was having a perfect streak up until she fell ill.

Blaise gave him a smug smile as Draco reluctantly stuffed the gold coins into the palm of his hands. Even if they were arguing, a Malfoy always repays his debts. Draco rolled his eyes as Blaise made a dramatic show of carefully counting the small stack of coins in his grubby paw.

“That, my friend, is just a technicality,” Blaise responded as he pocketed the change.

“Doesn’t matter! My horse always places first,” Draco retorted.

“Just because you finish first doesn’t mean you’re any good,” an annoyingly female voice said behind him. “I’m sure you’ve heard that before.”

Draco whirled around to see Ginny Weasley, glaring at him smugly, arms crossed underneath her breasts. _Just perfect_ , he thought, _as if this evening was going so well already_. He was in no mood to deal with Weasley. Who did she think she was getting into the middle of a wizards’ bet?

“You must be confusing me with your scarhead boyfriend,” Draco recounted. Standing up, he moved behind the armchair, standing face to face with her.

“Oh, don’t flatter yourself Malfoy,” Ginny sneered. “And for the umpteenth time, I am not Harry Potter’s girlfriend anymore.”

Draco couldn’t stand that sneer on her face. That was his sneer! No one was supposed to be able to use that against him. This was the final straw. She had been pressing his buttons since the moment they were forced to face one another, and it was time for a taste of her own medicine.

“On second thought, that’s probably why he’s not with you any longer. Couldn’t get the key into that lock, if you know what I mean, and had to look elsewhere,” Draco responded haughtily, taking a swig of his drink. Instead of hearing the usual sniggers of his supporting friends, he was met with silence. In fact, the whole common room had gone deafeningly quiet. Many of the women were giving him disapproving glares while the men gave him looks of pity. Apparently he may have crossed some sort of line and everyone knew. Except him. Where was he when the co-ed handbook was given out to everyone?

Ginny, to her credit, was staying pretty calm. He had expected she would have gone for her wand and hexed his precious hair off of his scalp, but she stood firm. However, her brown eyes were swirling with anger. Arms dropped at the waist, her clenched fists were turning white, nearly trembling. Draco had struck a nerve with Weasley. _Good_ , he thought. Serves her right for everything she did today.

And then it happened in slow motion. He felt his grasp grow smaller around the goblet as it began to disintegrate. The goblet shattered into dozens of tiny pieces, creating a mini explosion of juice. The shards of what was once his goblet lay strewn around his feet, and pumpkin juice splashed all over his face, dripping down to the front of his spotless shirt. Draco yelped as he jumped back, startled by the contents that were stinging his eyes. He heard the click clack of heels disappearing off in the distance while he was met with snickers from the crowd.

After fiddling around blindly in his pockets, he finally found his wand and cleaned himself up. Looking around, Ginny was nowhere to be found. He could still feel the prying eyes of the students boring into him. “Oi! There’s nothing to see here! Get back to your uneventful lives!” Draco shouted and people quickly turned away. The room began to buzz again with conversation as if nothing happened. He sighed deeply and sank back into his armchair once again, warily running a hand through his hair.

“Draco, you sure know how to charm the ladies, don’t you?” Max said, clapping his friend’s back.

Blaise looked at him carefully, “You know you’re going to be paying for that one for days to come.”

Draco said nothing and instead stared long and hard into the fire. He didn’t care he was mean to her. She needed to put back in her place. What did it matter anyway? Ginny Weasley was never going to accept the fact that they had to work together and neither could he. They were like oil and water, unwilling to mix. It was a match made in hell, and they were both doomed.

*****

**A/N:** There was a quick reference to Game of Thrones in there. I do hope to hear you readers soon! Thanks for reading. :)  



	4. Tea

The next couple of days flew by. Ginny would wake up every morning with her lecture notes strewn across her bed. This morning was no different; she woke with a start, peeling a piece of parchment off of her face that had gotten stuck on her cheek. She hoped somehow she would retain all of the information and minute details Narcissa seemed to be quite a stickler for. Her partnership was not improving much, but she hoped she could make up for that by remembering every other bit of information in order to pass with acceptable marks. Each time they were forced to work together, an argument ensued. Each one had to get the last word. Narcissa remained thin lipped but did not reassign them to other partners. They were like that volatile muggle invention electricity. They rubbed each other the wrong way and dangerous sparks flew whenever that happened.

It was novel really as Hermione had tried to explain several times to little avail, Ginny reflected as she got ready for the second week of lessons. A rope of sorts sent signals and created the lights through currents. However if there is a break in that rope, the connection would come undone. They were similar to a broken current; the fragmented pieces creating sparks when trying to be mended together. They needed to work as one to accomplish their goals but it was easier said than done. They would never come together to shine brightly. Ginny sighed as she grabbed her notebook and quill. There was little hope of that happening at this rate.

*****

Ginny shuffled into what looked like a ballroom with seconds to spare. She blinked, looking around the massive room. Several of the Burrows could easily fit in this space. Though the ceilings were expansive and had large decorative windows with gorgeous views of the gardens, today it looked like a drawing room. More like several drawing rooms, to be exact. Throughout the room were sofas situated with coffee tables and armchairs. Each table was set with a tea set and accompanying snacks. Ginny silently cheered as she saw delectable scones, biscuits, and crumpets galore; she had missed breakfast on account of oversleeping. 

“Students! Please find your partners and sit down at one of the tea stations. Today we will be working in groups of four, so find another partner set as well,” Kendra instructed. “Madame Malfoy will be out shortly to begin this week’s practical lesson.” 

Glancing around the room, her eyes quickly landed on Draco, who happened to be already sitting with Blaise and Lena. She grinned as she made her way to the group; at least she would have some friendly faces instead of dealing with Draco on her own. 

Right as she sat down, Narcissa glided into the classroom, her silk robes swirling around at her feet. At the head of the room were two chairs and a table with a similar set up to the rest of theirs. Mrs. Malfoy stood in front of the display and calmly cleared her throat. Taking that as an indication that the class was to begin, the class quickly quieted down. 

“Good morning, students. Now that we have moved beyond introductions, it is time to learn how to entertain guests. This week we will be focusing on afternoon tea. Often times, we have guests that like to pop in at odd hours of the day. Since it is not the proper time to serve a meal, it is fitting to serve tea and snacks instead. It is especially important for a hostess to know the proper etiquette for serving tea and it is equally important for members of society to know how to conduct themselves during such occasions,” explained Narcissa. She then moved to sit in one of the chairs and faced Kendra. 

The pair began to demonstrate the proper procedure for serving tea. From physically pouring out the tea to creating conversational points to accommodating guests, Narcissa went through every piece of information, point by point. Ginny faded in and out of the instruction, having served many a tea in her time. Sure, it was never to the caliber of the wealthy class, but she presumed it would be the same. It was just giving your guests food and drinks; how hard could _that_ be? 

Narcissa snapped Ginny out of her reverie as she concluded, “Now class, the reason we asked you all to form small groups is to practice out this scenario – from being the hostess to being guests. Kendra and I will be monitoring you all as we walk around the class. While this is a larger team exercise, we will still be critiquing you all closely.” 

With that, the groups were left to their own devices as a small buzz began to reverberate around the room. As she turned back to her group, the boys looked expectantly at their counterparts. Ginny rolled her eyes. _Of course, we would have to do all the work._

Glancing at Lena, she said, “I guess it’s up to us to lead the activity? I can start first if you’d like.” 

“Be my guest,” Lena replied with a smile. 

Placing her hands on her knees, Ginny pushed herself up into a standing position. She carefully handed each of her guests a saucer, tea cup, and spoon. She began to pour the tea for the men, grasping the tea pot delicately but carefully as she bent across the table to serve her guests. When she got to Draco, Ginny inwardly groaned. They had barely spoken since their large spat in front of the class. Though she was still mad at him for his rude comments, she had calmed down from her boiling anger that had shattered the goblet in Malfoy’s hands. 

While she was trying to avoid making conversation with her partner, she couldn’t help but notice Draco’s eyes linger a little too long on her chest as she bent lower to pour the tea. Though he tried to quickly shift his focus somewhere else, Ginny had caught him. Noticing his misbehavior, Ginny felt she had to teach him a lesson. Carelessly moving the teapot several centimeters to the left, the piping hot liquid began to pour into his lap instead of his cup. 

Draco yelped, quickly standing up to wipe the tea that soiled his nice slacks, sending his cup and saucer in the air. Blaise easily caught the cup and saucer before it hit the ground. A few of the students looked over to see what the commotion was about, but quickly went back to their business. It was once again another Weasley-Malfoy row. It was beginning to be commonplace around the Conservatory and was quickly losing its entertainment value. 

“My apologies, Malfoy. I suppose my hand started to… linger,” she said pointedly but in her polite, hostess tone while narrowing her eyes at him. Okay, so perhaps she hadn’t calmed down as much as she thought. He deserved it though. 

Draco growled as he threw the soaked cloth napkins onto the table. “That was completely uncalled for! You’ve probably given me third degree burns! Not to mention ruin a completely fine pair of trousers!” 

Sitting down and crossing her legs like a proper lady, Ginny calmly replied, “You seem to be forgetting one thing.” 

“Oh yeah? What’s that?” He replied, searching his pockets for his wand to fix this predicament. 

“I’m a Healer,” Ginny responded, pulling out her own wand. 

“My mistake. How could I forget?” Draco rolled his eyes. “Oh right, you remind me at every opportunity,” he added dryly. 

“Well, you keep regarding me as incompetent!” Ginny cried, moving across to fix the mess that she created. 

“Your profession is moot when you clearly lack motor skills,” He retorted. Just as he found his wand, he realized Ginny was right next to him. Ginny saw his wary expression as he inched closer to Blaise and further away from her. Ginny bit the inside of her cheek to prevent her laughter from erupting as she got closer. She adeptly applied some healing charms to heal the burns and prevent any scarring. Ginny saw his eyes soften as the pain dissipated and he sighed with relief. She then quickly performed a few cleaning spells, leaving his trousers and the carpet as good as new. 

“Hey, she’s actually pretty good,” Blaise chimed in, admiring Ginny’s handiwork. Draco merely huffed in response, crossing his arms across his chest. 

“It’s not fair, Lena, you get the smart one while I’m stuck with this buffoon,” she remarked, settling back onto the sofa. Lena chuckled and Blaise beamed at Ginny while Draco scowled at his partner. 

As the acting hostess, Ginny quickly finished serving the tea to her guests and offered snacks. With her trusty wand in hand, she decided that it was best to finish serving her guests with magic to avoid further mishaps. She levitated the rest of the components to everyone. 

Just as she had finished assembling her own teacup, she noticed Draco’s peculiar expression. While everyone else was pleasantly enjoying her tea, he was holding his saucer as far away as he could from his body. 

Eyeing it suspiciously, Draco asked, “How can I be sure you haven't poisoned this?” 

“I guess you'll have to try it and find out,” Ginny replied, pouring the cream into her cup. 

“On second thought, maybe I should be happy if it is poisoned. I'll no longer have to continue through this ordeal,” Draco stated. After a few more minutes, he brought the saucer closer to him. He sniffed the steaming liquid, slowly moving the cup, making the amber liquid whirl like a cyclone. Eventually, he brought the cup close to his lips, but still hesitated. 

Ginny quipped, “I had no idea Malfoys were so paranoid.” 

“We proceed with caution when it’s necessary.” Draco asserted. 

“Well, look at Blaise, he’s nearly done with his tea and seems to be doing just fine,” Lena offered. 

“Yeah, mate, it’s actually a good cup of tea,” confirmed Blaise as he gulped down the last few drips. 

Draco narrowed his eyes and scowled at his best friend. “Oh sure, take her side.” 

Ginny chuckled as the sugar cubes plopped into her own pool of tea. She quickly stirred her drink, the spoon clinking around the insides. Draco gave her a disapproving look and raised an eyebrow. 

“What’s the matter with you now?” Ginny replied, irritated. She set her spoon on the edge of her plate. 

“You don’t make noise while stirring. Every good host and hostess knows that. It’s absolutely barbaric,” Draco answered, calmly sipping his tea. 

“Well, call me a savage then and pass me a crumpet, Malfoy,” Ginny sighed. She was positive she had all of the rules of etiquette down for tea. So much for that little bit of confidence. 

“If you say so, savage,” Draco replied, handing the plate of crumpets over to Lena. Ginny rolled her eyes. Perhaps she should pay better attention next time, she noted. 

The conversation slowly began to flow between the two men while she was making small talk with Lena. While sipping on her hot drink, she couldn’t help but overhear what Malfoy and Zabini were talking about. 

“How are the Estate’s affairs doing?” Blaise asked Draco as he munched on a raspberry scone. 

“Pretty good, actually,” he responded. “You know how we’ve been expanding our investments this past year, yeah? During the past several weeks we’ve been focusing on the Institute of Muggle Studies, and…” 

_The Institute of Muggle Studies?_ Her brows furrowed quizzically. What would a Malfoy have to do with that? She knew that Hermione was currently contracted to the Institute through the Ministry of Magic because of her impressive magical abilities as a Muggleborn witch, but she could not imagine why Draco would have any vested interest in such manners. It piqued her interest. 

Unable to control herself, Ginny butted into their conversation, blurting out, “The Institute of Muggle of Studies? Why would you be working with them? You willingly interact with Muggleborns like Hermione, Malfoy?” 

Both Blaise and Draco looked at her like she had sprung a third head. 

“What’s the matter with you guys? I just asked a simple question,” Ginny responded to their incredulous stares. 

“Why are you talking?” Draco asked dumbly. 

Ginny looked at him, angrily. “What in the bloody hell do you mean ‘why are you talking?’” 

Lena cleared her throat. “Uh, Gin, according to today’s lesson we’re supposed to sit here quietly as the men discuss their affairs.” It looked like it was painful for Lena to supply this information. “We’re supposed to ‘direct the conversation to simpler matters’, as per direct quote from Madame Malfoy.” 

Ginny gaped. “What is this bullshit?” At least in her own home her parents participated equally in conversation with their guests. “Stupid backwards society,” Ginny muttered, slumping in her seat as she crossed her arms while she seethed. 

Lena nudged her friend, indicating that Narcissa was coming closer to them. Ginny quickly fixed her posture and plastered on a gleaming smile for all the world to see. Turning to Draco, she said, “Can I get you anymore tea, darling? After all, I’m here at your beck and call just as any trophy wife would.” 

“You’re more like the consolation prize,” Draco muttered, nibbling on a biscuit. 

“What was that, dear? I just waited for you eagerly to come home. I didn’t do absolutely anything today! It’s too much for my pretty little brain to handle, what you know with that blood loss us females must deal with every month,” Ginny continued, dramatically clutching her heart, in mock dismay. 

Lena snorted while Narcissa, who had seen the whole display, gave Ginny a disapproving look, quickly scribbling in her notebook before snapping it shut and moving onto the next group. 

Ginny was pretty sure they were all going to get marked down. She felt a little guilty that Blaise and Lena would get bad marks because of her, but the rash side of her won out once again. The boys deserved it for their ridiculous reaction. As if she was going to be seen but not heard by anyone, let alone her hypothetical mate. 

Feeling exhausted by this tumultuous exercise, Ginny relinquished her rights as hostess to Lena. Lena quickly took over the after tea duties, such as offering the men pipes and lighting it up from them. 

As her friend settled back onto the sofa, Ginny remarked while chewing on a biscuit, “I'm surprised women just don't slip some Amortentia into the men's tea and call it a day.” 

“This isn't 1843. Hasn't happened for centuries,” Blaise seamlessly responded, as if commenting on the weather. 

Ginny stared at him wordlessly, looking utterly appalled. She scarfed down another scone to help quell her miserable mood. 

*****

Later that evening as the group convened in the common room, Ginny couldn’t help but roll her eyes at the sight before her across the room. Draco Malfoy was quite salaciously flirting with one of the many females during their communal hours. It was vomit inducing. 

Currently, he was trying to use his smile on his latest target – Morgan Cornwall, a petite, green-eyed girl with long blonde hair. He kept leaning over and whispering things to her. Much to Ginny’s annoyance, Morgan kept giggling in response, batting her exaggerated dark eyelashes. Sure, he had a decent smile but he wasn’t that great. It annoyed Ginny to no end and she couldn’t figure out why. She eventually settled on the fact that it was because he clearly lacked any sense of respect or honor for their partnership, as faulty as it was. Or for Morgan’s and Tristan Burke’s, for that matter. 

“She's the village broomstick, that Morgan. Everyone's taken a ride on her at least once,” Lena supplied, when she caught what was in Ginny’s line of vision 

Ginny looked at her blankly, stunned by the harsh statement her usually sweet friend had just given. 

“What?” Lena asked. “It’s what Blaise told me.” She focused once again on the magazine in her lap, flipping through it sheepishly. 

Ginny could no longer listen to Morgan’s obnoxious, bubbly giggles. “Ugh,” Ginny groaned. “If I hear one more fake giggle, I’m going to crack. I need some air.” She quickly made a beeline for the entrance, Morgan’s high-pitched laughter ringing in the distance. Anywhere was better than here. 

*****

Draco stepped out into one of the garden terraces near his mother’s white rose bushes. He inhaled deeply, breathing in the cool air as his grey eyes scanned the garden, which was naturally in full bloom at this time of the year. The sun had sunk but the sky still hadn’t completely darkened. 

He remembered all too clearly Ginny’s dark eyes glimmering with anger. However, there was something else mixed in - hurt. Somewhere, very deep down inside, it struck him. He had made fun of many Weasleys time in and time out, but usually they responded with anger and fists. This was a strange reaction from one of his better opponents. 

That tiny annoying voice in the back of his head told him what he did was wrong. He kept trying to swat it away throughout the week, unable to put his pride aside. It continued to nag at him though, until he was no longer able to ignore it. Draco knew he had to do something about his predicament, for the sake of his sanity, his limbs, and most importantly, his bet. 

Suddenly, he heard footsteps somewhere behind him, and shifted away from the rosebushes and back onto the concrete. There he saw Ginny Weasley, clad in a worn dragon-hide jacket over her homely dress, her arms folded over as her hands rubbed her arms for warmth. Strands of radiant crimson swirled around, her hair freed from the restraint of her braid. Her rebellious look contrasted greatly with the grandeur of the Manor and the elegance of the garden. 

“Isn’t dragon hide a bit out of the budget for a Weasley?” Malfoy quipped, approaching his unpredictable partner, his hands shoved in the pockets of his trousers. 

“It’s my brother – Charlie’s – old jacket; he works with dragons,” she replied, too tired to go toe to toe with Malfoy. 

Shifting the conversation, she said, “And just what were you doing over there? Snogging in the rose bushes?” 

Draco smirked, planting himself adjacent to Ginny. “Perhaps. I’m sure you are disappointed at the fact that it wasn’t you in those rose bushes with me.” 

Ginny looked utterly disgusted as if that night’s dinner was about return from the way it went into her stomach. “You’re completely mental.” 

“Calm down, Weasley,” he laughed. “I just came out here for some fresh air.” 

“Oh…” Ginny responded, lamely. 

They stood for several moments, in uncomfortable silence. Draco knew this was his opportunity to try to make amends. For once, Ginny didn’t seem to be on the defense, and perhaps would be willing to listen to reason. He tried to think of a way to begin when her voice interrupted his thoughts. 

“I didn't know you liked green eyes,” she commented awkwardly. 

Draco paused for a moment, unsure of how to answer. “They're alright, I suppose. Why? What’s it to you?” 

“Oh, nothing. It’s just that your arch nemesis Harry Potter has green eyes,” she explained. 

Now it was Draco’s face that was scrunching up in disgust. “Oh gods, Weaselette. Thanks a lot! You've completely ruined anything good about Megan Cornwall.” 

Ginny elaborated with a smirk as she added, “they're the same exact shade too. Uncanny, really.” 

“Not. Another. Word. Weasel. I am _this_ close to retching," he indicated by pinching together his index finger and thumb, leaving little space in between. 

"Well, stop acting like a cad in the common room then!" Ginny snapped. 

Draco sighed, slowly exhaling. He face palmed, taking a few seconds to recollect himself. He needed to stop antagonizing her. If there was any hope of winning the bet, this was the perfect opportunity to save face. “Look,” Draco began, awkwardly shifting his weight from heel to toe, teetering back and forth. “Daphne may have been a bitch last week but she’s not completely wrong.” 

Seeing the outraged look on Ginny’s face, he quickly continued before she took over the conversation. “Look Weasley, you may have gotten comfortable at Hogwarts and St. Mungo’s, but this is my turf. This is my home, my people, my rules. I could actually be an asset in completing this program successfully. You clearly came into this program for a certain reason, and I doubt you want to fail.” 

“I do not need any help, Malfoy!” Ginny cried incredulously. “I’m doing just fine, thank you very much.” 

“Oh, sure. Our dismal marks in lessons are a great indicator of that. I think you may be the mental one out of the two of us,” he replied. 

With no response from his partner, he sighed with a shrug. “Suit yourself, Weasley.” 

_I tried_ , he thought to himself as he reached into his own jacket pocket. He laid down the bait and it was up to her to take it. With Weasley still surprisingly silent, Draco felt it was a good time for a moment of relaxation. His hand returned from his pocket with a packet of cigarettes and a lighter. Flipping the carton open, he took one out and lit it in one swift move. He exhaled deeply, a cloud of smoke exiting his mouth in small rings. 

“Malfoy! Cigarettes?!” Ginny cried, astonished. Draco winced. He was not in the mood for a lecture from a goody two-shoes Gryffindor – and a Healer to boot – about his bad habit that wouldn’t seem to give. But to her surprise, Ginny had other thoughts on her mind. 

“I haven't had one in so long and I’m about to crack! Your mum nicked them from my things during that ridiculous inspection,” she continued. “I mean, we're grown adults, and she was going through all of my most private things!” Ginny looked at him expectantly, tapping her foot. 

Draco asked, irritably, “What do you want, Weasley?” 

“Well, aren’t you going to offer me one? After all, it is the polite thing to do,” she reprimanded. “And isn’t what this Conservatory is based on? Manners?” 

Draco let out another set of smoke rings before replying, “You shouldn't be smoking. It's bad for your health, Healer Weasley.” 

“Oh stuff it, Malfoy,” said Ginny. “Do you really think that Healers listen to their own advice? Half of them are smoking like chimneys during their breaks while the other half are hoping to nick one off the other. If I’m really stressed out, I’ll occasionally ask someone for one.” 

Draco thought about it for a moment. On the one hand, this was his last pack since he had decided to give up the habit for once and for all. He was down to the last several sticks and was treasuring them. On the other hand, this could be an unexpected step in the right direction. Wordlessly, he brandished the box out of his pocket and threw them over to her. 

Ginny easily caught it and wrapped her hands around the container. She took one out and waited for Draco to bring out his lighter. He moved closer to her, leaning down to light the cigarette. His light eyes met her dark ones for a moment. For once there was no anger or disgust in her expression, but he was unable to read her face. Draco suddenly became acutely aware of this strangely intimate exchange, and quickly moved away. 

For several minutes, they quietly enjoyed their forbidden secret in peace, enjoying the pleasant evening. “Wow this is some quality stuff, Malfoy,” Ginny exhaled, breaking the silence. 

Draco wasn’t sure where this was going. They finally had a few minutes of civility, and he wasn’t keen on talking. It would break the feeble bridge he had just built. 

Evidently Ginny had other ideas, as she continued, “You know, I don't understand how your mother makes a show of having us learn how to light up pipes and smokes and the like when women aren't even allowed to smoke according to this society’s rules.” 

“No one wants to see yellow teeth on a woman or kiss an ashtray,” Draco smirked. 

“Like we want to see them on you blokes?” Ginny scoffed, wrinkling her nose. “Pot meet kettle.” 

“And another thing,” Ginny said, wagging her finger in the air. “Your mother spouts off the silliest bullshit I have ever heard in my twenty odd years of existence. ‘A woman must definitely be seen but not necessarily heard.’” 

“No idea what she's going on about, honestly. Narcissa Malfoy makes sure she's heard by everyone,” Draco replied, sounding a little bored. He knew his social circle was full of contradictions, and didn’t need to be told again. This was clearly brand new information to the youngest Weasley. 

“Stupid backwards society,” Ginny muttered once again. It was slowly becoming her mantra at this rate, Draco thought. 

They continued on with their task in an awkward silence once again. The sky was darkening as the minutes were flying by and a sprinkle of stars slowly began to glimmer. Eventually, Ginny threw the remains of her butt on the ground, quickly squashing it with her left foot. With a quick wave of her wand she vanished it away. 

“Well… Goodnight, Malfoy,” she awkwardly bade him farewell. She began to walk away, before turning around quickly. “Er, thanks for the cig,” she quickly said, before disappearing back into the house.

*****

**A/N:** I do hope you enjoyed! I'm so sorry this took forever to add! Just got busy between moving, job hunting, and other life stuff. I hope to get back to regular updating hopefully in two to three weeks. :) Thank you SO much to those of you that have reviewed! I hope you leave a review on the way out. :)


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